The sequel to
The Admiral: Roaring Currents
and
Hansan: Rising Dragon, and the epic finale of Yi Sun-sin trilogy, is finally being released
digitally! Being the Imjin War enthusiast that I am, of course I wouldn't
pass up the chance to review what director Kim Han-min has in store for his
audience!
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A bit of running joke: Hey, it's commander Yi Ung-ryong (이운룡 or
李雲龍) again! Reprised by the same actor! For reasons unknown he
is always the first Joseon commander I recognise.
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Noryang: Deadly Sea revolves around the titular
Battle of Noryang, the last major battle of Imjin War and the climax of the entire war. This
makes it a much easier battle to adapt into a good story/movie, which allows
the movie to be largely (albeit not completely) free of the numerous narrative
problems that plagued Hansan: Rising Dragon. This is not to say Noryang:
Deadly Sea is superior to its prequel, however. In many ways, it is worse.
(Major spoilers ahead, be warned!)
Production issues
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The perk of Hanzi writing system: Korean and Chinese communicating by
writing is both historically accurate and a great chance to have
narrator and actors speak Korean without looking out of place.
Unfortunately, the director insisted on using cringe Chinese even when
Chinese characters are not verbally communicating.
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Production issues are the least of the movie's many problems, so I am going to
mention them first. My first complaint about Noryang: Deadly Sea is that the
Chinese language in this movie is atrociously cringe to a native speaker, to
the point that I must pause the movie to clear my head every time anyone
speaks any Chinese. To be fair, this isn't really a production issue per se
(all actors are Korean so it's understandable that they can't speak Chinese),
although the production team really should consider hiring some Chinese actors
or just dub over the Chinese part.
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Yi Sun-sin vomiting blood.
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Personal gripe with the language aside, there are definitely some pacing
issues with the movie. This is particularly egregious during a scene where the
titular character, Yi Sun-shin (이순신 or 李舜臣) suddenly sees hallucination
of his deceased son, calls out the names of his comrades one by one as if
bidding farewell to them, and vomits blood out of nowhere—BEFORE he was
fatally shot by a Japanese gunner. I have a sneaking suspicion that executive
meddling forced the director to pad out the length of his movie to the
detriment of storytelling. In any case, pacing issues will likely be fixed if
the director later releases a Redux/director's cut version of the movie like
he did for Hansan: Rising Dragon.
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Ming soldiers beating Japanese captives to a pulp.
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Thirdly, remember that I said I enjoyed the build-up portion of Hansan: Rising
Dragons for
all the wrong reasons? Well, the build-up portion of Noryang: Deadly Sea is largely free of the
narrative issues of its prequel, but this ironically means that it now bores
me to death, as I no longer have any reason, not even wrong one, to enjoy this
convoluted mess. I am not even sure if the flashback and minor plot of Yi
Sun-sin's dead son is really necessary when the central theme of the story
isn't that of personal vendetta, but "to end the war on our terms we must
pursue the enemy to the
very edge of the (Japanese) archipelago.".
Speaking of which, I am well aware this that this is a nationalistic movie and
all, but surely such vindictive message can't be the right moral to convey to
the audience?
Sea of inferno: Battle of Noryang on the silver screen
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Joseon fleet splitting the Japanese fleet in two. Depiction of
pre-modern naval battle of such scale, in complete darkness no
less, is probably an industry's first.
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Historical accounts of Battle of Noryang are rather light on finer details,
which give plenty of room for creative liberty. For example, there's nothing
in the historical records that describes the Koreans deploying
hwacha
during this battle, or the Japanese using captured cannons to sink
turtle ships, but there's nothing to suggest they DIDN'T either. Thus, free from
historical restrictions such as Yi Sun-sin's famous
Hak Ik-jin (鶴翼陣), the director was able to let his imagination run wild, and I commend him
for delivering such blood-pumping battle sequences. Moreover, barring a few
exceptions all characters acted in a mostly logical and coherent manner, and
the battle tactics and counter-tactics sensible and convincing, both of which
make for an enjoyable watching experience. Regrettably, later portion of the
naval action was overshadowed by overly drawn-out, soap opera-esque
montages of Yi Sun-sin's final moments and death, although this doesn't
detract from the fact that it was great while it lasted.
Nevertheless, despite the enjoyable battle scenes, there are indeed some
exceptions, or one might say plot holes, that detract from the
overall story. Chief among them are the war fleet of Konishi Yukinaga (小西行長), Chen
Lin acting out of character, and the battle that ends at dawn. They will be
elaborated below:
Konishi Yukinaga's pristine war fleet
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Konishi Yukinaga's fleet.
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The story begins with Konishi Yukinaga holed up inside Suncheon Castle due to a joint Ming-Joseon naval blockade, with supply running so
low his soldiers were on the verge of resorting to cannibalism. If that
is the case, then where did he find/hide such a massive fleet of
warships? And why didn't Yi Sun-sin do something about these ships
before they become a problem, i.e. destroy them during the
blockade?
Chen Lin acting out of character
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Chen Lin ordering Ming navy to attack.
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In this film, Ming admiral Chen Lin is portrayed as a calculating coward that
took bribes and spent the better part of the film trying to distance himself
from Yi Sun-sin's war to avoid more bloodshed. Yet during a crucial moment he
suddenly ordered Ming navy to press the attack seriously, only to end up with
his own flagship boarded by the Japanese. This abrupt change of mind is
entirely out of character for Chen Lin's risk-averse portrayal up until that
point, and it appears that the director forcibly handed him an idiot ball for
no reason other than to set up a "Yi Sun-sin heroically save the Ming admiral
from danger" moment.
The battle that ends at dawn
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Yi Sun-sin's plan to annihilate Shimazu Yoshihiro's fleet before dawn.
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Having the epic struggle to be over by daybreak gives a nice touch of symbolism,
signifying the nightmare that terrorised Korea for the past seven years is
finally over, and new hope arise. Historically, the turning point of
Battle of Noryang also happened around dawn (although the battle itself
continued well into the morning), so that checks out. So why is this a problem?
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Shimazu Yoshihiro's subordinate urges him to retreat because "time is running out".
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Konishi Yukinaga sounds the retreat, leaving Shimazu Yoshihiro out to
dry.
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Well, the time when the battle ended isn't a problem. It's only when Yi
Sun-sin explicitly set a time limit that he must defeat the Japanese before
dawn, Shimazu Yoshihiro became increasingly agitated as daybreak drew near,
and Konishi Yukinaga acted as if he was too late after arriving at the scene
by dawn, that it become problematic. Why? Because while the battle happens to
be over by dawn, there isn't any particular reason that it couldn't, or
shouldn't, go on for longer. In essence, by racing against this arbitrary time
limit, the characters both good and bad are making decisions based on out-of-story knowledge they couldn't possibly know.
As to why serious plot holes like this can crop up in an otherwise fairly
coherent story, this brings me to my next point...
Stolen shine: a sad attempt at ego-boosting
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Yi Sun-sin beating the war drum.
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At its core, Noryang: Deadly Sea is a nationalistic flick under the guise of
historical movie. Attempts to shape the titular hero Yi Sun-sin into a saint
among men, and to a lesser extend make the Koreans look good and heroic
while everyone else either bad or helpless, permeate throughout the story,
dialogues, and character portrayals, some overt, other indirect and subtle.
Naturally, in such work historical realities are more of a hindrance than a
boon. They are inconvenient truth that must be distorted to serve the
narrative, not the other way around.
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Shimazu Yoshihiro reading the secret letter sent to him by Konishi
Yukinaga.
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To illustrate, in a secret letter Konishi Yukinaga warned Shimazu Yoshihiro
that Yi Sun-sin might counter-invade Japan after the war. This obviously
untrue statement may appear to be just another off-handed chest thumping to
make Yi Sun-sin look good and Joseon Kingdom appear more powerful than it
really was (which is usually par of the course for a nationalistic movie but
relatively harmless, although not in this case), however it actually
underpins much of the history distortions that shape the movie's story, and
the plot holes that come with such alterations.
You see, in the historical version of Battle of Noryang, Konishi
Yukinaga simply packed up and slipped away from Suncheon Castle while
the battle raged on. However, in order to glorify Yi Sun-sin, the director
made him a dangerous commander that the Japanese simply could not ignore
(even after they lost the war), necessitating the antagonists to hatch a
nefarious plot to defeat him, which in turn necessitating Konishi Yukinaga
to conjure a war fleet out of thin air to threaten Yi Sun-sin with. Thus, a
plot hole came into being.
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It also necessitates Yi Sun-sin using decoys to delay Konishi
Yukinaga, rather than...you know, smash his idle fleet before he had a
chance to use it.
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Likewise, that Chen Lin was the supreme commander that led the allied navy
to victory during Battle of Noryang, and Ming navy actually did most of the
legworks during the battle, are all inconvenient historical facts to the
director's story that must be written off/away. There's a reason why Battle
of Noryang played out so differently from Yi Sun-sin's other naval
victories, for instance the unusually heavy use of incendiary weapons,
little aversion to boarding combat, and the main artillery being
Chinese
Hu Dun Pao (虎蹲砲) rather than the usual Joseon
Chongtong (총통 or 銃筒). But nope, can't have that, Yi Sun-sin must hoard all the spotlights! So
Chen Lin is portrayed as a coward that tried to avoid battle at all cost,
while Chinese
Huo Qiu (火毬)
and
Pen Tong (噴筒) are being replaced by unimaginative oil pots hand-thrown by Joseon
troops then ignited with fire arrows.
Had Chen Lin not been portrayed as a coward, the scene where his ship was boarded by the Japanese and he was saved by Yi Sun-sin would've flowed far more naturally. Unfortunately, the director wanted to have his cake and eat it too, so he forced Chen Lin to abruptly change from a
coward to a Leeroy Jenkins in the span of like two scenes, so that Yi Sun-sin can look good by heroically saving his
inept Chinese ally from danger, plot hole be damned. Historically, it was
Yi Sun-sin's ship that got surrounded by the Japanese first, then Chen
Lin charged in to save Yi Sun-sin, only to cause the Japanese switch target and surround him instead. The
freed Yi Sun-sin then returned to help Chen Lin, and the two fought side by
side until dawn. Alas, such moving tale of fire-forged camaraderie,
butchered into a plot hole-ridden ego boosting.
And what about the dawn?
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The breaking of the dawn.
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By itself, various characters in the movie subconsciously racing against an
arbitrary time limit is a relatively minor problem, more of a director
oversight or dialogue slip than a story-ruining plot hole. However, the fact
that such oversight can exist in the first place shows that the director
probably did his historical homework—but chose to discard historical events
that inconvenience his narrative anyway. Why? Because one notable event did
take place at dawn—Deng Zilong (鄧子龍) came in gun blazing and saved the
day!
Deng Zilong, an old soldier by the time of his death (he used to be a
commander but was demoted to the rank of common soldier before entering
Korea), was the last of the major characters to join the fray, but the first to set fire to Japanese
warships. His success prompted Chen Lin and other Ming ships to follow suit
with their own incendiary weapons, and this was what caused the Japanese to
finally break ranks and flee. Unfortunately, his ship was hit by friendly
fire during pursuit, and the ensuing chaos allowed Japanese troops to board
the vessel and kill nearly all hands aboard. Due to Deng Zilong's low rank and
relative obscurity, the Japanese didn't realise they had killed someone of
significance until centuries later, so no one at the time claimed credit for
his death.
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Deceased son ex machina
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Drum-inflicted PTSD.
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Bah, can't have that either. There's no way the director will allow another
heroic sacrifice to detract from Yi Sun-sin's own, so
nothing in particular happened at dawn in the film (despite everyone
keeping track of the time limit). Well, nothing except Yi Sun-sin
suddenly saw a vision of his deceased son who prompted him to start beating
the war drum, and this inspired the good guys to fight harder while
inflicting a psychological meltdown on the villain Shimazu
Yoshihiro so horrid he ran to cower in his room and literally start
vomiting (no really).
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Deng Zilong getting his head sliced off by Shimazu Yoshihiro.
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As for Deng Zilong, he was reduced by director to what can be described as
"Yi Sun-sin's believer", an inferior who was "redeemed" and was so devout
to the hero that he put him above all others and strove to emulate him,
going so far as to confronting his own superior and attacking without order.
Too bad the hero's imitator is not the hero himself, so Deng Zilong died an
unceremonious death without accomplishing anything.
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Chen Chan died a speed bump to Shimzau Yoshihiro's villainy.
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Shen Li getting shanked by Japanese troops.
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Moreover, as if Deng Zilong's death still wasn't enough to rub it in, the
director then decided to kill off minor Ming commander Chen Chan (陳蠶) to
re-emphasise Chinese incompetence, and make another minor Ming
commander Shen Li (沈理) undergo some kind of foxhole conversion (except he
didn't convert to Christianity but to Yi Sun-sin), and found redemption in valiant death—better to die fighting like a Korean than live like a coward!
Never mind that both of them survived the war, and Chen Chan even stayed in
Korea for two more years (he returned to China in 1600). Because why let
history get in the way of the stirring tall tale of our lord and saviour Yi
Sun-sin?
I know, Noryang: Deadly Sea is a nationalistic movie, so some measures of
embellishment and glorifications of the titular hero are inevitable. But doing
it in such blatantly denigrating manner, even to allies, it just
seems so...tactless and petty.
Further reading
My patrons get an one month early access to the additional commentary and trivia that I've write for this movie, which is now open to public and can be accessed
here! If you like my work, please support me via
Patreon!
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